


Aurora

by orphan_account



Category: Breaking Bad
Genre: Addiction, Animals, Cats, El Camino: A Breaking Bad Movie, Gen, Past Drug Use, Pets, Post-Episode: s05e16 Felina, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:33:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21814480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Alaska is nice, but it's lonely. Jesse decides to do something about that.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 56





	Aurora

There are a few observations Jesse makes after moving to Haines. First is the fact that the air is, like, crisper than anything he’s ever breathed before, even crisper than the air in ABQ during winter. The second is that it’s apparently going to get dark as shit during the winter, which is definitely different from home. The third observation is less related to location and more to the situation he’s in, and that’s just that he’s incredibly _alone._

It’s been one week.

He likes the house that he’s living in; Ed got it all furnished up for him early on, so that’s a definite benefit. It’s cozy as hell, kinda reminds him of how his Aunt Ginny decorated the house back before she passed away. Jesse always left the place as it was, ‘cause, why the hell not, yo? It was the last reminder he had of her, and he didn’t have to worry about spending any green on the furnishing. When his douchebag parents kicked him out, though, they took away her furniture. Coming back to that house was fucking rewarding and all that, but the fact still stood that his house was barren when he moved back in. There’s something super lonely about a house that empty; it’s like it’s directly reflecting his mental state, which is equally empty.

So, he’s glad that this new house of his has furniture in it already, even if he didn’t get to choose the style. He has the thought, though, that he can probably pick out the style once he starts making his own furniture. Then, it can be whatever style he wants, and he’ll be good to go with that.

Still, though, a furnished house is never any less lonely when it’s just him living in it. Jesse longs for meaningful human connections, but with a lack of those, he’s left to sit by himself. He’s lonely. God, _Christ,_ he’s so lonely, and with loneliness comes the worst of its effects: the _cravings._

It’s funny, how he really didn’t get them much during the escape from Jack’s compound, and he didn’t get them on the way to Alaska, either, but when he’s left alone with a house void of company and no friends, his brain gets anxious. Thoughts hit Jesse－ones that he’s not proud of, ones that he doesn’t want at all. Thoughts like, _this would be so much easier if I had a hit_. Thoughts like, _the loneliness wouldn’t be so bad if I was high out of my mind._ The worst kind of thoughts.

"I'm not doing this to myself," Jesse tells himself on the drive to the nearest gas station. "I don't even have a dealer. I don't even _know_ a dealer in Haines." Filling up the air with rambling is one way to talk himself through it, like he's attempting to hype himself up to not do any drugs. "Yeah, that's a good thing. That's… That's real good, 'cause if I _had_ a dealer, I'd spend way too much money, and then I wouldn't be able to live comfortably at all, and shit, which would totally suck, man."

He pulls into the gas station. Shaky hands smack the dashboard of his truck, his teeth chattering from more than just the cold weather.

 _Ding._ The little bell in the doorway signals Jesse's entrance and the worker, an older bearded man, greets him with a little, "Hello."

"Hey," Jesse greets, his eyes scanning the place for an easy distraction. They land on cigarettes, the whole entirety of them with their colorful boxes, laid out behind glass like rows upon rows of _candy._ Like a kid in a candy store, Jesse's feels a growing sense of excitement.

He leaves the gas station with a bag of _Funyuns_ and a pack of _Newports._ This should scratch the itch just fine. Plunking himself into his vehicle, Jesse opens the pack of cigarettes he just bought. Looking into the pack, he sees one that stands out. It's slightly bent out of shape, looks like it was opened.

 _"It's my lucky cigarette,"_ repeats his own voice, fresh like he's only just said it. He sees himself slip away the ricin cigarette. Then, he sees himself dumping the whole pack onto the ground, frantic, outside of the hospital. Jesse sees himself pressing a gun to Mr. White's head, remembers all of the words he used to talk Jesse down from killing him. All of the manipulation is still fresh, too.

He can still smell the gasoline from his attempt at burning down Mr. White's house. Or, maybe he's just smelling the gas station he's currently parked at.

Jesse can't smoke these. He rolls down the window and tosses them out with a sob. Then, in a moment of sudden lucidity, he realizes that he just chucked a pack of cigarettes into the snow and essentially littered. Shamefully, he goes to pick them back up and dust the snow off of the little cardboard box.

Everything is a reminder of his old life, and he hates it so much. Walking back into the store, Jesse drops the pack of cigarettes onto the counter. "I'd like to make a return on these."

The cashier cautions an awkward glance at the snow-covered cigarettes, cold and soggy as they are. He winces. "Sorry, sir, but we have a policy on no returns for opened cigarettes." The guy's looking at Jesse with pity in his eyes; Jesse can't quite tell if it's 'cause of the scars or the fact that he looks like he's about to break down, but either way, it's awkward as fuck.

"Sorry," Jesse apologizes, not even fully realizing why he's doing so. "I just, uh, don't want them. Maybe, you could maybe -- _like,_ pay it forward and give these to the next person who comes lookin' for a smoke?"

"Um…" The cashier just gives this pathetic, pitying look. It's like he has no idea what to do about this situation.

That makes two of them. Jesse opens his mouth to speak before promptly deciding it's not worth it. Turning around, he leaves the gas station without another word. Starting the car, he doesn't look back as he drives away.

It takes another few days for him to attempt to leave the house after that. Before doing so, he looks through the phone book and finds an address to drive to.

_Haines Animal Rescue Kennel._

Jesse drives out as soon as he finds the address. Maybe it seems sudden, but it's not like he has to make the decision to adopt anything yet. He just can't stand the emptiness at home.

The building is rather small, as a lot of Haines is. Cozy. As he walks in, he's greeted by a friendly looking young woman standing at the front desk.

"Oh, hey! Welcome to Haines Animal Rescue Kennel," she says, greeting him with a friendly smile.

Jesse smiles back, but it's a bit on the shy side. "Yo." He speaks softly, more withdrawn. After everything he's been through, he's become quieter. It's not a bad thing, though; in fact, it's probably for the best, since he's in hiding anyhow.

"Is this your first time here?"

"Oh. Um, yeah." Scratching at the back of his neck oh, he looks off to the side, almost feeling a bit shy. All throughout the building, there our pets in cages mewling and whining. Jesse thinks for a moment that he, too, was in a cage. Much like himself, these animals would surely appreciate being freed from their cages. "All of these animals are for adoption, right?"

"That's right," enthusiastically replies the woman. "Feel free to take a look around and let me know if you have any questions."

"Thanks." Jesse gives the woman a thumbs up before sauntering through the small kennel space. As he walks between the rows of cages, the realization hits him that he's _definitely_ not going to be leaving _without_ a new friend. It just breaks his heart to see all of these homeless animals, with no family to call their own.

Jesse knows how they feel.

He stops in front of a cage containing an older kitten. It's… well, _she's_ a six month old tortoiseshell cat with big green eyes and perky little ears. When he puts his fingers through the bars of her cage, she eagerly approaches him and rubs up against his hand.

"You must be new to Haines," comments the woman working at the desk while Jesse idly pets the tortoiseshell. Small talk doesn't come easily to him anymore, but he would feel rude not to say anything at all, so he makes a point of responding.

"Good eye. Very observant, and stuff. I actually just here a week ago," he says. The kitten continues to snuggle up to his hand, purring eagerly from the influx of attention. "I like it here so far. It's nice."

"We don't get many newcomers, but a lot of people feel that way too," replies the worker with a cheerful smile. "It looks like you're already making a friend. You want me to take her out so you can get to know each other better?"

Jesse takes a long look at the kitten before he decides with a nod. "I think I'd like that. This cat seems really sweet."

"Oh, she _really_ is." Walking up to Jesse, the woman goes right to the cage to unlock it. "We've had her for a while now. She's a little big, so the younger kittens got adopted before her, but she's a real lover." Gently plucking the cat out of her cage, the woman holds her like she's carrying a baby. She looks to Jesse, and for a moment her eyes land on the scars all over his face. Fortunately, she doesn't comment on that and instead tips her head toward the nearest bench. "If you wanna sit down, I can put her in your lap."

"Right on. I'll totally do that," Jesse replies softly, managing a somewhat awkward grin as he takes a seat, nervously wiping his sweaty palms onto his jeans before the kitten gets handed to him. He takes the feline into his arms, holding her gently, and he swears that she's the warmest thing he's ever felt in his life. His fingers shift to her chin to give it a little scratch, and he can _feel_ the vibration coming from her purrs. Just petting the cat lightens his spirits and gets a genuine chuckle out of him. "Oh, _no,_ she's too cute."

"She could be all yours, if you decide to take her with you," the woman says. Jesse looks over to her, curious.

"I've never actually, like, had a cat before. Is it hard?"

Shaking her head, the worker sits beside Jesse, giving the kitten in his lap a friendly pet on the head. "I wouldn't say it's too hard. You have to feed her, play with her, give her vet care, scoop litter, make sure she's got plenty of drinking water and a safe place to stay. Is that something you're up for?"

Jesse thinks on it for a moment before coming to his final conclusion. "Yes. It is, _definitely."_

And so, he adopts the cat. He names her Aurora, because the pattern on her fur is varying and almost mosaic, and he's in _Alaska,_ after all, so why not be thematic? He goes shopping and gets all of the necessary supplies. Shit, maybe he even spends _too much_ on supplies, getting the biggest cat tower that'll fit in his little house.

When Jesse first brings Aurora home and lets her out of the carrying cage, she makes a point of investigating her new surroundings. With all of his other furniture around, he's got a bed, which Aurora spends a good time sniffing before she decidedly crawls under it.

"Come here," Jesse coos to her, crouching down and making kissy noises in an attempt to draw her out. Aurora just blinks back at him, her slender tail wrapped around her body. He won't deny that the rejection hurts a little bit, though the kitten will hopefully warm up a bit once she's used to the house.

Jesse opts for putting the litter box in the bathroom, which has just enough room for it. The box of litter he got is heavy as fuck, and he prays that he won't break his back as he lifts it to pour fresh litter into it. Aurora steps out of hiding as he does so, and with her little paws, she curiously steps into the box, sniffing the edges before looking back at Jesse. She mewls softly.

"Yep," Jesse replies, as if this is a real conversation. "That's all yours." He doesn't feel embarrassed about talking to a cat --- after all, _he_ adopted her. And admittedly, he's _pretty_ lonely, so he might as well make conversation with his new pet.

Aurora meows in response, stepping out of the litter and rubbing her nose against Jesse's hand. It's super endearing.

"You know, you're getting to shit in a real nice box," Jesse makes a point of telling her. "That's honestly better than the place I had to go just a few weeks ago."

God, he really isn't that far into freedom, is he? The unpleasant memories cause him to make a perturbed face. He moves back into the kitchen to set up the cat food. Two bowls, one for water and the other for _premium cat kibble._ It rattles and clinks as it's poured into a bowl. The noise draws Aurora in, her soft feet pattering against the floor. She meows eagerly before sitting down in front of the bowl to munch away. Jesse pets her as she eats --- finally, he is no longer alone. Maybe his addiction isn't cured, but it gets a little easier to ignore cravings when there's a little creature in his home that needs him.

The first night, Jesse gets pulled from a nightmare by the sound of meowing. He wakes up in a cold sweat, feeling sick to his stomach like he's ready to puke. Aurora hops onto his bed and sits on his chest.

"Hey," he whispers to the cat, swallowing down a lump in his throat. "Did you know I was having a bad dream?"

Aurora responds by putting her nose to his, and then sniffing his mouth. Jesse holds still as she conducts a full sniff-examination of his face before ultimately deciding to lay down on his chest. She's not too heavy --- in fact, in the weight of her little body on top of him is rather comforting.

Pulling his hand out from beneath the covers, he strokes her head right between her ears. Aurora's quiet breathing turns into a heavy purr.

Jesse sleeps through the night and gets more rest than he has for the rest of the week.

By the time it's week number two in Alaska, Jesse and Aurora are the best of friends. Really, though, it took no time at all for him to love her. The kitten's presence is soothing and comforting, and he's able to keep himself busy by playing with her and caring for her on a daily basis. She greets him in the morning with a series of friendly and eager meows and runs around the house whenever he comes home from his occasional shopping excursions.

Maybe scooping up cat shit isn't the highlight of his day, but it's better than imprisonment, and it's worth it when Aurora later curls up on his lap.

Even if he doesn't have any strong human connections yet, Aurora is there for him. Jesse's heart feels lighter, and his hope for the future grows a little stronger.

Maybe he'll even expand his family and bring home a puppy next time.


End file.
